Cudda Been

[Verse 1] I'm never sentimental to the instrumental Smoke presidential, in this rap game, residential You wanna judge me, ho, well I'ma need to see credentials Plain and simple, I'm plannin' on ownin' your expenditures And all your rentals, I'm feelin' anxiety, knowin' it's mental Life's inspired by the sunlight shinin' through the window Fly myself to some shows when I'm gone in the winter Home right before Christmas, receive it all on your wishlist, kiddo The dad I am makes me wish I had one when I was little Raisin' him, watchin' him grow, the kid I live through Better to know what you have than to find what you forgot And you left more than a scab, bruises, a couple of knots Worse than gettin' shot, a boy growin' up without a pops It's detrimental, the penitentiary countin' down on the clock Karma's addin' up by the second and catchin' the ones in question The answers I gave directions to, prayin' that Heaven's blessin' you [Hook] Growin' up as a minority Gettin' rich was my only priority Can't take the hood out a nigga, it's a part of me And if you wanna live my life then you should martyr me Chillin' with a chick, Charmane, she drinkin' Chardonnay I'm smokin' weed while we bangin' Tha Carter 3 Pardon me, but you don't want no part of me I'm a gladiator, bitch, come and spar with me [Verse 2] It's disturbin' when you say you ain't worth it If you had a better mindset you would be a better person I believe in you, I know they're just words, worded it perfect I keep the herb lit, it grounds me, when disconnected it's earthless Sex is overrated and privacy's up for purchase They know you can't afford it, throw it in your face on purpose Remember what you do it for when you get some dough I do it for the paper, bitch you already know In the band who played the sax and wore a tie and a bow The guy with the fro after practice gettin' high for the low Jheri curl minus the glow or have broken bifocals Couldn't tell the difference between a dime and ho I thought you was a hustler, never grinded before Nah shorty's pumpin' music by the mom and pop's store Made beats of his own, wrote poetry to his songs He kept it from home cause moms would throw a heap in the bone [Hook]